Back to the Marauders' Era
by CoconutBanana
Summary: It seems like a dream-come-true when fanfiction-obsessed Chloe gets transported back to the marauders' era. However, she soon finds out that she is actually in the story of her nightmares, with the characters unrecognizably warped out of shape and cliché after cliché... But that's not the worst part... She's turned into a Mary Sue.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: All characters you recognize belong to J.K Rowling, even if they are warped out of shape to an extent where you don't recognize****them anymore.**

**This story is inspired by 'A Marauders' Cliché' by magic-spelldust, an amazing story which sadly only had 3 chapters before the author left it. I have changed a lot, but that's where I got the idea.**

_Back to the Marauders' Era_

_Prologue_

_~"It is a cliché that most clichés are true, but then, like most clichés, that cliché is untrue."~_

_-Stephen Fry_

I slammed my laptop shut in annoyance. Still fuming slightly, I stood up from my desk chair and went over to lie on the bed

_Sirius Black does not fall in love with a Slytherin OC, damn it! _I thought. Why was the concept so hard to grasp for authors? Sirius Black, hater of all things remotely Slytherin, would not fall in love with some transfer student with the personality of a brick, just because she had jugs the size of melons.

I was getting too worked up, I knew it. It just annoyed me so much when authors warped canon, without labeling the story as 'alternative universe'. Because Sirius falling for a Slytherin would definitely only happen in an alternative universe.

When I read Fanfiction, I wanted to read about the characters I knew and loved, not unrealistic and unrelatable original characters, and shadows of the characters in canon.

"Chloe?" I heard my mum call from downstairs. "Can you get down here?"

I stood up slowly, glancing at my reflection in the mirror as I passed. Still the same dishwasher-blonde hair, dull grey eyes and pale skin.

Perhaps the reason I hated so-called Mary Sues – basically, characters without realistic flaws, too perfect to be real or relatable – was because I knew that the only way I'd be even remotely as beautiful or popular was in an alternative universe.

I did have friends, and I had been in a (not very serious) relationship before, but there was no way that guys would fall in love with me after a exchanging a few sentences.

I trudged down the stairs, pausing only to pull up the zipper on my over-sized sweater, and into the kitchen.

My mum was hurrying around the kitchen in a short black dress and stilettos, hurrying around the kitchen, stirring the soup on the stove, making toast and simultaneously throwing objects into her open handbag on the counter.

My mother is somewhat of a super-mum. Since my dad left us when I was seven, she's been raising me alone, having a stressful job and been going on more dates than I'll probably have in the rest of my life. She also looks amazing, with blonde hair and baby blue eyes. I have no idea why I got stuck with my dull features – I blame my dad.

"I made soup and toast, I'll be back before two! Be good and behave!" She said, giving me a quick kiss and rushing out.

"Aren't being good and behaving the same thing?" I shouted after her.

"Yeah, whatever, do both!" She shouted from the hallway. "Love you!" I heard the front door bang shut.

I turned the stove off and poured myself some soup. Grabbing some toast, I plodded back into my room.

I grabbed my laptop, placed the soup and toast on my desk and plopped into my chair.

Except, I missed my chair.

I landed with a crash on the floor, my head banging into the hard, metal wheel of my desk chair.

Then everything went black.


	2. Completely, entirely clichéd

_Back to the Marauders' Era_

_Chapter One:_

_Completely, entirely clichéd_

_~"A cliché is a truth one doesn't believe"~_

_-Bernard Taper_

When I woke up, I didn't open my eyes for a moment. My head was throbbing, and I was feeling strange – but I couldn't tell why.

I lay on the floor for a few moments, before raising my hand to feel for a bruise, or worse, a wound on my head. Surprisingly, there was nothing. My hair felt different, though. It felt soft and smooth, unlike its usual course texture.

After I lay on the floor for a while, I sat up. For some reason, this was a lot easier to do than I was used to; it was like I had suddenly grown muscles.

I opened my eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the harsh light. Then I nearly choked on my own saliva.

I lying on a concrete floor, with people walking at a fast pace around me. I started breathing faster, adrenalin pulsing through my veins. What had happened? What was going on? Where was I?

I wondered why nobody stopped to help. I was a girl lying on the floor, and they all were just walking past, completely ignoring my presence.

My mind desperately tried to think of a way to justify the situation I was in, but each was as unrealistic as the next. _I was out cold until my mum came back and then she called the ambulance, and I fell out… No, wait…_

I tried standing up. Was I at… King's Cross? I could recognise it from the Harry Potter movie. I was in London?

_Okay, I'm dreaming. This is all a dream. _I told myself.

I heard the hooting of an owl. I spun around, only to see a breathtakingly handsome teenage boy with dark eyes, pale, flawless skin and dark hair. The hair was slightly lanky and a tad greasy, but it suited him, somehow.

He caught me staring at him, and I felt my face grow warm.

"Hello," he said politely.

"Er – hi." I stammered. I couldn't focus with someone as handsome as him standing in front of me.

"I'm Severus Snape." He introduced himself when I didn't say anything.

I started choking again. "Excuse me?" I asked supporting myself on his trolly.

"Er, I'm Severus Snape. And you are…?" He trailed off unsurely.

"Wait, like in Harry Potter?" I asked, still coming to terms with the fact that this handsome guy was named after a Harry Potter character.

"Um, excuse me?" He asked, the confusion evident on his face.

"You know… Harry Potter? The book and movie series…?" I trailed off when he looked at me blankly.

"What's a movie?" He asked.

_Okay. What the hell is going on. _I was starting to panic. I was no longer at home, I was apparently in London, and a freakishly handsome guy named 'Severus Snape' that has an owl doesn't know what a movie is?!

The only thing that consoled me was that I couldn't be in an alternative dimension where Severus Snape was alive: He was never this handsome, that's for sure.

I took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, but can you tell me what's going on?"

"Uh, well, we're at King's Cross, on our way to Hogwarts…" He raised an eyebrow.

My stomach dropped. _Hogwarts? Okay, what the actual hell was going on here?_

The only conclusion I could draw was that this was, in fact, all a dream. I had hit my head, and my brain was coming up with this illusionary dream-like story. _I might as well go along with it… _I thought.

"Oh, alright." I said, like that explained everything.

"I've never seen you around here before, where are you from?" he asked, starting to walk. I followed him.

"I'm a transfer student from America." I said automatically. _Well, that was weird._

He nodded understandingly. I scoffed silently – like transfer students were a regular occurrence at Hogwarts.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Oceane-Elenore Duquette" I said without thinking. "But call me Oceane." _What's going on? And what kind of a name is that?_

"That's a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth.

At first I thought he was making fun of me. Beautiful? Me? Pah. I bashfully looked at the floor, my face warming up.

Then I saw two ginormous boobs on my chest. They were humungous. I literally couldn't see past them to the floor, let alone my feet.

I whipped my head up. I was getting more and more confused.

"Alright. I trust you know how to get onto the platform?" he asked, putting a hand on my lower back.

I wanted to jump away – no boy had ever touched me like that before, let alone a complete stranger – but, for some reason, I just giggled in a melodic way and tucked my soft hair behind my ears. "Yes…" I said, and, before I knew what I was doing, I was running towards the brick wall.

_What am I doing? _I shouted to myself in my mind, but my body wouldn't listen. I just kept running straight at the brick wall. I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for the impact.

It never came. I opened my eyes, and found I was actually on Platform 9 ¾. I stood, mesmerised, taking in the scene in front of me.

I don't know how long I would have stood there if it wasn't for the Snape-guy appearing behind me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured into my ear, causing me to start.

"Yeah…" I whispered.

He stood there for a moment, before asking, "So, why did you decide to come to Hogwarts?"

Once again, I talked automatically, with words I hadn't thought of in my mind coming out of my mouth. "My dad and I live a… special lifestyle. The schools in America wouldn't accept me. Professor Dumbledore made an exception."

He nodded, but before he could reply, some other voices interrupted.

"Oi! Snivellus! Keep your greasy hands to yourself!" Someone shouted.

I rubbed my eyes wearily. This was too much for me to process. When I opened them, I saw three boys standing in front of me.

I had thought the Snape in my dream was too handsome to be real, but he came nowhere close to these guys. They were all tall, tanned and toned, with brilliant white teeth and friendly smiles.

I guessed the one on the right was Sirius in my dream, he had impossibly silver eyes with blue patterns in them, amazingly soft looking black hair that suited him perfectly, and high cheekbones.

The one in the middle had stylish glasses (except, if my dream was supposed to be in the marauders era, it was unrealistic, seeing as the fashion was different back then…), windswept looking brown hair and friendly brown eyes.

The third one, presumably Remus Lupin, had sandy blonde hair with blue eyes and a kind smile.

I soaked my eyes on them, fully aware that, once I woke up, I would probably never meet people as handsome as them again. Like, ever. They were beyond super-model handsome, more like absolutely, unnaturally, impossibly handsome. The absolute ideal of what teenage boys should look like.

"Yeah, back off, Snivelly!" James Potter said.

Snape curled his lip into a sneer. "And what gives you permission to decide who I may talk to, and to whom I may not?"

"She's coming with us." Sirius said firmly, taking my hand and leading me away from my only 'friend' so far. I gave him an apologetic smile over my shoulder, feeling bad about how rudely my favourite characters were behaving.

"Thanks for saving me…" I said automatically. _Saving me from what? We were having a friendly conversation._

"You're welcome." Sirius replied, smirking at me. _I bet them saving me had something to do with my humungous pair of boobs._

We looked for an empty compartment, but, as it usually is in cliché-filled stories, the only spare one was where Lily was sitting, reading.

Then it hit me. _Clichés. Unnaturally handsome guys. Huge boobs and all guys hitting on me._

I was in a clichéd, badly written Fanfiction.


End file.
